A Servant's Love
by Zammie4eva
Summary: A look at Much's love for his Master Robin as seen through Marian's eyes while the he attends to Robin's wounds. An AU ending of season two finale "We Are Robin Hood" in which Marian is not killed and Robin is instead stabbed by Gisborne.


It was quiet in the tent, the hot desert air filtered through the flaps that waved in the slight breeze, and I pressed a wet cloth to Robin's forehead.

The King's camp was filled with the low murmur of voices and the clank of metal weapons, and I paused in my tending to get more supplies from the trunk at the back of the tent.

"Master!"

I heard Much long before I saw him, his footfalls soundless in the sand, but his voice carrying across the dunes clearly.

"_Master!"_

He burst through the tent, finding Robin and flinging himself down beside him so fast I was sure he'd do himself an injury.

"Master, you're wounded!" Much was panting hard, having run to the camp from the city no doubt straight after hearing the news.

Robin's hand came up weakly to clutch Much's. "Sshh sshh," he hushed. "I'm fine, I'm alright."

"No, no you're not alright. Your wound...it's identical as the last...Master...oh Master..."

"Sssh..." Robin whispered, trying to soothe the panicked man in front of him. "Much...I'll be okay. You're here now, you're here with me, and you'll look after me, like you always do. Won't you?"

"I was put on this Earth for you, I'll always look after you Master." Much promised.

For some reason I felt like I was intruding on an intimate moment, which was a ridiculous notion even in my head, but nonetheless I felt as though I should not be watching this.

"I know you will." Robin gave him a small smile, though it was pained.

Much closed his eyes, I could see from where I was that he was crying. Robin lifted his hand – that was still clutched tightly in Much's – and pressed it to his cheek. Much held their hands there with his other hand, and the two stayed like that, silently, for many minutes.

Only Much's sniffles could be heard throughout the tent.

"I'll kill him." Much finally muttered. "I'll kill Gisborne. I'll tear his heart out with my bare hands."

I'd never heard Much speak in such a vicious manner, and the hatred in his eyes when next he opened them startled me.

"Much," Robin murmured. "No. No more bloodshed. No more death. You don't have to be a killer Much...don't become one."

"Master..." Much said.

"Robin." was the soft reply. "You never call me Robin, even after all this time."

"You are my Master." Much's voice was soft now too, and he dropped their hands, only to have Robin catch his again.

"You're free now. I don't want to be your Master any more Much. I want to be your friend," Robin's voice was sad, pained.

"You are Master." Much responded. "But you're all I've ever known. You'll always be my Master... my–my Robin...and I'll always be your Much."

Robin sighed. "I'm glad you'll always be my Much." he gave a short chuckle and reached up to flick Much's ear. "And I will always be your Robin."

Much smiled a little, cheeks going faintly red. "Don't keep saying it like that. You're making me awkward."

Robin laughed. "That's exactly why I said it like that."

"I hate you." Much huffed.

Robin grinned. "No you don't. You love me."

"I do." he agreed. "And you still haven't given me any food."

Robin chuckled quietly. Much asked if he was in pain, and Robin dismissed his concerns, though he eventually gave in to Much's insistence and let him inspect his wound, tending to it much as I had done, though I suspected he had the experience of many battles in which he'd tended to Robin on his side.

I could hardly make my presence known, it would seem rude, like I was hiding and spying. So I had no choice but to remain where I was until Much left. And so I remained, listening to their quiet banter and watching them from the corner I was crouched in.

Watching Much tend to Robin, with such tenderness, such loving care and a devotion that I had never shown him when treating his wounds, I suddenly realised. It hit me like a stone wall, and once I'd seen it, I wondered how I had ever missed it.

Much loved Robin.

More than a servant's devotion, more than a friend's loyalty.

Much was _in _love with Robin.

I let that sink in a moment, quietly staring with my mouth hanging open, and for several minutes I spaced out of the real world, lost in my thoughts. The thought did not repulse me, oh no, as I looked up at the two men, the sight of them together caused my eyes to water, my heart to ache. It had to be the sweetest thing I'd ever seen. I could not recall Robin and I ever having such a loving and intimate moment as he was having with his servant here and now. Whether Robin realised Much's feelings or not. The tragic nature of this one-sided relationship was horribly romantic. I'd always found Much endearing and impossibly sweet, like a small child I wanted to cuddle and shield from the world, and this realisation...I realised I pitied him. His Master loved a maiden, while he loved him in silence, since who knows how long ago, and would continue to go on loving him. I felt impossibly sorrowful in that moment.

"Much?" Robin's voice reached me, and I snapped out of my revere, not knowing how many minutes had passed.

"Yes Master?"

"I'm sorry."

Much blinked, obviously confused. "Master what – ?"

"For dragging you into battle." Robin sighed. "For dragging you into the forest. For dragging you back to this place of death and horror. And for soon dragging you back into the forest. I know you hate it, and I have not made your new life as a free man a very good one. I made you an outlaw, I took away a life you deserved to have. I'm sorry."

"Master." Much was firm, though his hands were gentle as they took Robin's. "Don't. I followed you into battle, I followed you into the forest. It sometimes makes me a little sad you know...that I'm more familiar with your back than your front. I'm always following you...I can't see myself doing anything else. I would follow you to the end of the world, I would follow you into death itself."

"Oh Much..." Robin bit his lip, looking simply downtrodden. "My dearest Much..."

"Don't be sorry for me Master. I exist to serve you. No – not serve, I don't know what the word is, but whatever it is, that's what I exist for. You're everything in this world to me Robin of Locksley, without you there is nothing else. You're the reason I wake up, the reason I fight. When I fought for the King I fought for you, when I think of England I think of you. And so, I will take care of you, I'll get you home to England, I'll carry you myself if I must. I will see you defeat the Sheriff and be made lord again, and marry Marian properly if it's the last thing I do."

"England could not ask for a finer man, no I for a finer manservant." Robin said. "Or a truer friend."

Much smiled, and nodded once. "So don't die on me now, alright? There are some places even I can't follow. And if I have to trudge to Death's Door just to give you a good reprimand then I will, and I'll be very cross with you understand?"

Robin nodded, chuckling.

"Now that I know you're alright, I should tell the others." Much said standing up. "Get some sleep you, I won't have you trying to crawl off into the night to join a battle like before. You're not sick with fever this time so don't try any of that I Don't Know What I'm Doing business either,"

Robin smirked. "Yes sir."

"Good. Or I'll beat you with your own bow." Much chuckled as he left the tent, in much higher spirits than he had entered in.

I sat there still, in silence, thinking. Much loved Robin so much, he was determined to see him with me so he could be happy. Much loved Robin so much he would do anything for him, anything and everything. Much loved Robin so much he was willing to live in misery his entire life, so long as it meant he could stay by his side, one way or another. Such a true and pure love...he loved him in a way I would never be able to. He loved him more than I. And as I glanced down at Robin's now peaceful face, I could see that he loved him right back. He just didn't know it.


End file.
